Taking Care of Mac
by westwingnut221
Summary: As soon as she had any kind of break from work, she immediately got sick. A whole week off and she was stuck hobbling around her flat blowing her nose, sneezing, and occasionally acting like she was going to cough up a lung. It was, needless to say, very sexy. Mac/Will.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: This came to me the other night and wouldn't shut up until I wrote it down. Pure fluff._

_Disclaimer: So very not mine. If they were mine Jeff Daniels would always wear that deep blue shirt he wore in the finale._

"**Taking Care of Mac"**

Mackenzie McHale felt like shit. It was unfair, really. Her body always did this. As soon as she had any kind of break from work, she immediately got sick. A whole week off and she was stuck hobbling around her flat blowing her nose, sneezing, and occasionally acting like she was going to cough up a lung. It was, needless to say, very sexy.

Mac was just entertaining thoughts of hauling herself up to make some tea when her doorbell rang.

She sighed and hauled herself to the door instead, all the while wondering who it could be.

She peeked through the peephole and groaned. Will. She really didn't have the brain power to verbally spar with him today. Maybe he'd just go away.

"Open the door, Mac. I can hear you wheezing in there."

Damn.

Mac caved and opened the door to her dashing and infuriating anchor.

Will took one look at her and sighed. Her nose was all red, she was without her usual makeup, and the look on her face read, "Kill me now."

"Jim told me you were sick and I brought you some invalid provisions," he said, holding up the shopping bags he was toting.

Mac stepped back to make room for him without saying anything.

Will moved straight into her kitchen and started filling her kettle. "I brought you some of that vile tea that you like to drink when you're sick."

She leaned tiredly against the counter and watched him putter around her kitchen as though it was his own. She was always amazed at how he managed to be sweet and an ass at the same time. "Thanks… I think."

He pulled out some food cartons. "Are you hungry?"

"No appetite."

"Maybe later then." Will tucked them into her fridge. "Chicken Scallopini." He paused and tilted his head. "You still like that, right?"

A small smile flickered across her face. "Yeah," she replied.

He smirked her favorite smirk. "Good."

Her kettle shrieked and he poured some water over the teabag in her favorite mug. "Drink this and I'll be back in a minute." He took one of the bags and vanished into her bedroom, but she couldn't muster up the energy to be affronted or to try and stop him. Instead, she did as he commanded and drank her "vile" tea. You know, he was right, it really was vile. But it made her throat feel better and the steam helped her sinuses.

Will reappeared as she finished her tea. "All of your muscles ache, right?"

She squinted at him. "How'd you know that?"

He leaned on the door and crossed his arms over his chest. Mac couldn't help but notice how good he looked in the blue button down shirt he was wearing. He brought her out of her reverie when he said, "Remember that time when we finally got that weekend off and we were going to go to the Hamptons and live it up? You got sick and were so sore you could barely move."

That had been about six months before the dread call from Brian Brenner and all hell had broken loose. She nodded. "Yes, I remember."

Will nodded. "Well, I brought you something that will make you feel better. You'll also love it when January rolls around and you can't get warm."

A little of her usual spark came out when she said, "What the hell, Will?"

He took her arm and guided her into her bedroom. "It's a heated mattress pad and so much better than an electric blanket that you can kick off in the night. Here's the remote, so you can adjust the temperature. It's warmer down by your feet and cooler up by your head. Get in!"

Mac smirked at him. He was just like a kid on Christmas, but instead of finding a Red Rider BB gun under the tree, he was giving it to her instead. He pulled back the covers and she almost wept when she got in the bed. The heat permeated her aching body and some of the tension left her. She may have moaned.

Will smiled at her reaction and sat down next to her. "Nice, right?"

"Very nice. Thank you, Will." She gazed up at him. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Well, in spite of everything we've gone through, I still hate to see you in pain."

She smiled a real smile up at him and laid her hand over his. "Is that what the message said?"

Will stopped to think for a second. "In a way," he hedged. "Now sleep, Mac. I put some orange juice in your fridge. Drink a big glass when you wake up."

Mac rolled over and snuggled in. "Yes, Dad."

Glad she was feeling good enough to tease him, he stood up to take himself home. Just as he was rounding the corner, her voice caught him. "I mean it, Will. Thank you."

He smiled to himself. "You're welcome, Mac. Take care of yourself."

Mac mumbled something inarticulate as she drifted off to a healing sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Thank you all SO MUCH for your reviews and favorites and follows and all that! It means the world to me. I got up this morning and had a whole inbox full of happiness. I was vaguely planning on this just being a one-shot, but then I got the idea for this chapter and thought "What the hell!" I'm not sure when the rating goes up to M, but I dropped at least one F-bomb in this chapter (It is Will, after all), just so you know._

_Bonus points to anybody who catches the West Wing reference in this chapter._

_Disclaimer: They're not mine. If they were, Don would have gotten in A LOT more trouble for those flowers._

**Taking Care of Mac**

**Chapter Two: Taking Care of Will**

Will McAvoy felt like shit. He had tried to be a nice guy and it had back-fired and bit him on the ass. Mac (God, it always went back to Mac) had been sick. He'd taken her tea and food and a heated mattress pad. And what had she given him? Her goddamn cold!

He sneezed for the millionth time and blew his ever-so-tender nose. He had the remainder of the week off and was going to spend some well-deserved time golfing. He barely had the energy to get out of bed, let alone trudge eighteen holes with a bag of clubs slung over his shoulder (caddy's were for rookies).

See, this is what happened when you were nice to people.

Life was so much easier before Mac had come back. He had been an asshole and done lame "news" stories and slept with whomever he wished. Now he had fucking standards. Standards on the kinds of stories he covered and on the women he slept with. Although, more often than not lately, he ended up with some frilly drink thrown in his face and a lonely bed.

He was wallowing in that lonely bed right now, even, surrounded by wads of Kleenex, empty cough syrup bottles, and the morning's newspaper. Will vaguely wondered to himself how bourbon and cough syrup mixed. After the Northwestern debacle, he wasn't too keen to find out. He needed that orange juice that he left in his EP's fridge, damn it.

His doorbell rang.

Will had an idea of who was at his door. No doubt it was the same EP looking to reciprocate the taking care of the invalid. He threw the covers back and shuffled off to the door.

Sure enough, there was Mac, looking a hell of a lot better than she'd looked the last time he'd seen her.

She smiled hesitantly at him. "I heard you caught my cold."

He sneezed in response.

Mac looked vaguely guilty and said, "Sorry about that." Her eyes perked up a little. "I brought you some soup."

"Chicken noodle?"

"Of course."

He stepped back to allow her to enter.

"Are you going to make me drink that damn tea?"

She sent him a disgusted look. "Are you kidding? I remember the last time you drank it. You suddenly started spouting dramatics the likes of which I haven't seen since I saw the Royal Shakespeare Company do _Hamlet_."

Will was going to call her on her own over-dramatization, but she pulled out the biggest jug of orange juice he'd ever seen.

"No pulp," she said, making room in his fridge for it.

"Nobody likes pulp," he countered.

"I do."

"That's your inner-Brit showing."

"I'm American."

"It's genetic."

"Liking pulp in my orange juice is genetic?"

"Yes, probably passed down from Charles II and perfected by English royal family in-breeding. That's the only explanation for someone liking pulp in their orange juice."

Mac stopped. "I can't believe we've just had a whole conversation about this."

Will blinked. "Let's not tell anyone at the office about this."

"Yeah, I think that's wise." She smiled at him. "I've brought you something that will brighten up your day."

"Mac, if you tell me you've got a Catholic school girl uniform on under that," he gestured at her jeans and t-shirt, "I applaud the idea, but I'm not really in the state to—"

Mac rolled her eyes and handed him a section of the newspaper, folded to exhibit a headline that read "P.S. 221 in Lower Manhattan Receives Large Anonymous Donation." Will skimmed through the article and his smile got broader with each word he read. Apparently, the school was going to use the sudden boon to refurbish their library and update their computers. "I'm surprised he actually did it."

"Me too. I've had Jim watching for it, just in case, though." She poured him a glass of the fruit juice and nudged the bottle into his fridge. She handed him the glass, along with the chicken soup that she'd poured into a bowl.

He followed her to his couch and ate the first spoonful of soup. It felt like mana from heaven on his parched throat. All he could do was look at Mac gratefully as he devoured the rest of the concoction. It felt as though the soup and Mac rejuvenated him at the same time. He still felt awful, but he felt a tiny bit better than he had before she'd shown up.

He looked up and found her reclining against the back of the couch with her eyes drifting closed. "Mac?"

She blinked up at him. "I'm still not quite back to normal." She yawned.

Will put aside his empty bowl and leaned back into the corner of the couch. He opened his arms for her.

Mac hesitated until Will wiggled his fingers at her. As he folded his arms around her, she felt more comfortable than she had in weeks. OK, in years. Despite the fact that he was sick and had been lingering in his pajamas (the pajamas she'd bought for him, by the way), he still smelled wonderful. She had always teased him about Essence of Will and its calming effects on her. The intervening years hadn't changed that. She nestled in closer to him and lifted her feet off the floor.

Will laid his cheek against her hair. He had noticed during their hug after the "Rudy" incident that she hadn't changed her shampoo. How many women went that many years without changing their shampoo? Mac had always been a creature of habit. It was one of the things that had made him fall in love with her.

She mumbled something and he said, "You're going to have to repeat that one, Shakespeare."

Mac pinched his waist and said, "What was in the message?"

Will rolled his eyes and pinched her back. "You're a stubborn pain in my ass. That's what it said."

"Seriously, Will."

"Seriously? It said you're much better for aches than a heated mattress pad."

She smiled and closed her eyes again, hoping that Will would feel better in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Again, thanks to everyone who reviewed and favorited! This chapter's pretty short, but sweet. Apologies for that (the short bit. I make no apologies for the sweetness).**

**Disclaimer: I'm not Aaron Sorkin, therefore, they're not mine.**

**Chapter 3: Taking Care of Each Other**

Will McAvoy felt fantastic. Well, his nose was still stuffed up and his throat ached like a bitch, but life was still pretty damned wonderful. After years of trying to get over her, years of jumping the closest bimbo he could find only to wake up the next morning feeling hollow, and months of watching her work her way back into his life, he woke up this morning with MacKenzie McHale in his arms. She was making a delightful little humming noise deep in her throat and it made him want to kiss her until neither one of them could breathe.

As if she could sense his thoughts, her eyes popped open. Mac looked stunned for a moment until her memory caught up with the rest of her and a shy smile broke across her face. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself."

"How are you feeling?"

Will squeezed her a little tighter against his chest. "Pretty damn good."

Her shy smile widened into a full-blown grin. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He grinned right back at her. "How about you?"

"'Pretty damn good' sounds accurate."

Will took in their foolish grins and their tangle of arms and legs. "It's a good thing no one from work is here to see us being so sappy. They'd think we'd gone soft."

"Jim knows better than to ever think I've gone soft. He'd just smile and go about his business."

"Breakfast?"

"Not if we have to get up."

"I hear you, but eventually we're going to need some kind of sustenance."

"I suppose even if we have something delivered we'd have to get up to answer the door."

"Yes."

"Damn."

"Yes."

The two of them sat quiet for a few minutes, trying to come up with alternatives.

"I've got nothing."

"Me neither."

"OK, compromise. We get up, make breakfast, then bring it back to the couch and watch mindless popcorn movies all day long."

Will thought for a bit. "Because we're recuperating from being sick and we wouldn't want to relapse," he rationalized.

Mac smiled. "Exactly."

"No wonder you're such a good EP."

Mac laid a hand on Will's arm with a very serious expression on her face. "You really think I'm a good EP?"

_Shit_, Will thought. He really had been an ass to her lately. He took her face in his two hands and met her eye to eye. "Mac, I know I've been treating you like shit since you came back, but I should tell you this more often. You are a _brilliant_ EP and there is _no one_ else I would want to or _could_ do this show with. Don was good, but he had no soul. You have more soul than anyone I've ever known, Mac. God, how I've missed you."

Mac had a catch in her throat and tears in her eyes. If this kind of availability is what happened when Will got sick, she'd have to infect him with malaria next week. She brought a hand up to Will's cheek. "I've missed you too, Billy."

"If I weren't vaguely afraid of giving your cold back to you again, I'd kiss you right now."

Her heart skipped a beat. "I'll take a rain check, but don't put it off for too long."

He grinned. "Done."

Mac cleared her throat. "Breakfast."

"Right."

And so the Face of CAN and his EP enjoyed a leisurely breakfast of Eggs Benedict, orange juice, and gallons of coffee and spent the day cuddled on a couch together watching whatever mediocre movies were showing on cable. Neither of them could think of a better way to heal, both outside and in. They would deal with the real world when they had to.


	4. Chapter 4

**Taking Care of Mac**

**Chapter 4**

**AN: I know it's been an obnoxious amount of time since I posted some of this, but my muse has been rather silent on the matter… until this morning. So, here's the next bit. Sorry to those of you who wanted the day spent watching TV together, I just couldn't make it work. If somebody wants to write it, I'd love to read it, though! Onward…**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, they're still not mine. If they were, Maggie and Jim would be happily shagging each other's brains out, instead of the debacle of the last episode. Don and Sloan, ditto. Hmph.**

MacKenzie McHale felt rejuvenated. Despite having had the nastiest cold this side of the H1N1 breakout, she'd had a pretty damn good weekend. She and Will had spent Saturday curled up on his couch, eating popcorn, and yelling at _Howard the Duck_ on cable. (Christ, what an awful movie.) But now it was Monday morning. Her cough was gone, her sinuses were clear, and she felt like a million dollars. Fox News betters watch out, because she felt like kicking some major ass today.

As she stepped into the bullpen, Jim caught her eye and gave her a smile. "Hey, Boss. You look like you feel better!"

"I do. Thanks."

He threw her that small smirk of his. "Will looks much better too."

Mac's eyebrows rose, she hoped innocently. "Oh?"

"Mmm." Jim smiled, knowingly, and turned back to his computer.

Mac just shook her head. Sometimes that boy was too observant for his own good.

As she stepped up to her office, out stepped a well-recovered Will McAvoy, looking exceedingly handsome in a deep blue button down that brought out his eyes. "Hey."

"Hey."

"You're looking much better, Mac."

She smirked. "You too, Will."

He held her door open for her and she dumped her briefcase onto her desk.

Will said, "It's amazing what a Saturday in front of the TV can do for you."

Mac didn't respond since they both knew the TV had nothing to do with it. She just sent him a warm smile instead. "And now it's back to the grindstone and reporting the news."

"Almost," Will said, stepping into her personal space (not that she minded). "I believe it's time to cash in that rain check, now that I won't re-infect you with the bubonic plague."

Mac's heart raced even as she said, "You're such a drama queen, it wasn't nearly as bad as that."

Will slid his hand across her cheek and into her hair to cradle the back of her head. "Mac?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up." After this many years, kissing Mac again was a revelation. It was familiar and new at the same time and Will wasn't sure he could, or wanted to, stop.

Mac rose up on her toes to reach Will's lips better and wrapped her arms around his neck. God, she had missed this. Missed his strength, missed his warmth, just plain missed _Will_. And did she mention how good he smelled? She would not fuck this up again.

When they finally separated, Mac said, "Does this mean you've forgiven me?"

Will's eyes were very serious as he said, "Forgiven, yes. But that doesn't mean I'll forget."

Mac nodded. "I understand."

"I've missed you, Mac."

"I've missed you too, Billy."

"Don't call me that." Clearly, he wasn't serious. Mac just smiled.

Charlie chose that moment to open Mac's door. "Mac, I wanted to—" He stopped right where he was, his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, and a huge grin broke across his face.

Will and Mac both pulled back a tiny bit, but didn't come close to leaving each other's arms.

Mac said, "What did you need, Charlie?"

"Hell if I know. I've completely lost my train of thought. When the hell did this happen?"

Will smiled down at Mac. "This weekend. Mac was sick and then I was sick and we were taking care of each other and then—"

"Stop! I don't want to know any more! I'm thrilled for both of you and it's about damned time, but now I have to go back to my office and figure out what I was going to ask Mac because someone needs to do some work here today." Charlie started to leave and then stopped and turned back. "All it took for you two to get back together was for both of you to have a cold? Damn, I would have infected you both with malaria ages ago if I'd known."

"Thanks, Charlie." Mac said to Charlie's back. All she got it response was a dismissive wave of his hand over his shoulder as the door shut behind him.

Will finally let Mac go and said, "That was fun. Who shall we throw off their game next? Jim?"

Mac opened her laptop to check her e-mails. "Jim took one look at me this morning and knew."

"Seriously? That's kind of freaky, Mac."

"That's how long we've worked together. He reads me well."

"Maybe I should take him out for a beer and we can compare notes on you."

"Just don't get him stoned."

"Spoilsport."

Mac grinned at her computer screen. It was so nice to be back in sync with Will. She might have worried about the effects their relationship would have on the show, but she knew from experience that they'd just get better and better. When they were both on their game, they became two halves of a well-oiled whole and they were unstoppable.

"Have dinner with me tonight."

Mac stopped and looked up at Will's suddenly serious face. "Of course."

"I mean like a date."

Mac's lips quirked a tiny bit. "That's what I figured."

"It won't be a clean slate. It will be a well-worn slate that's got a new coat of paint."

"That sounds good."

Will smiled and turned to leave. He turned back at the door. "I do love you, Mac."

Mac felt her eyes fill and a lump fill her throat. All she could do was smile.

Will came and kissed her forehead and murmured "Work hard" and left her to it.

Needless to say, it took her a while to focus that day.


End file.
